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He surged up, fisting the shirt she was wearing and shoving it up as he slid inside of her with a groan to match her gasp.
He didn’t take his time.
He didn’t even remember to breathe. He simply started thrusting into her sweet heat and let her take him home.
* * *
MELANIE
His gaze was distant as she rubbed her hands over his sculpted chest, cupping the water and letting it wash away the soap. He was definitely more muscular now, and adding that to the new full beard, the teenager that she fell in love with was almost nowhere to be found.
In front of her was a man.
“Hey,” she whispered, and he flinched, his troubled eyes finally coming back to her.
In the last few months, something had aged him. Not physically, but mentally. She could feel the heavy weight of it surrounding them.
“You know I’m here if you want to talk, right?” He nodded.
“I know, but honestly, sweetheart, I just want to enjoy being home.” She nodded back, but knew that she would have to keep pushing. He had never been good at sharing his problems, too intent on providing everything for her rather than focusing on himself.
She drew her finger over a red puckered scar on his side and her stomach dropped at the implication. It wasn’t the first scar that he’d come home with, but this one was new, and she hated every one of them. She hated them because each one took something from her man.
“You’re’ not going to let it go, are you?” He chuckled, pinching her chin and tilting her head back as he backed her into the cold tile wall. She didn’t care, though. His wet body was pressed against hers and she could feel everything.
“No,” she husked out, answering his question, hoping that look in his eyes meant that she was going to be getting round three right here in the shower, but he only shook his head.
“Sweetheart, you wore me out. Give a man a sec to recuperate.” Leaning forward, he nipped her nose. “Let’s get out, and we can talk,” he whispered before leaning down and giving her a soft and gentle kiss.
As he pulled back the covers on the bed and laid down, she fought her tears. It had been too long since she had done something so ordinary with him, and her chest began to ache. He laid on his back and wrapped one of his arms around her, pulling her into him, the blankets on the bed draped over both of them as he heaved a big sigh.
“Fuck, I missed our bed,” he muttered and kissed the top of her head as they lay there in the silence.
“What happened?” she whispered, breaking the silence and fingering the scar again.
His arm tightened around her before he gave her what she needed to help make him heal.
“We were gathering intel on a new route into an insurgent camp. It was supposed to be routine, but we quickly learned that it was a chemical base.”
“Chemical base?” she asked, her brow furrowing.
“Bombs, sweetheart,” he said softly, and her heart jumped.
“Is that…” She sat up quickly, looking at him in horror, her mind instantly spinning about what she almost lost.
“No. Hey. It’s okay,” he quickly reassured. “They bombed our camp, but nobody died.” He reached up and brushed his finger over her cheek, leaving a warm trail in its place before pulling her down till she was resting on his chest again. “It’s all right.”
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked, fighting tears again.
“Yep. No lasting damage.”
“How’s Dean?” Tilting her head back, she looked up at him.
“He’s okay. He had some shrapnel in his leg, so he is still in recovery, but he will be discharged in a few more weeks.”
“He’s coming here, right?” she asked, already knowing how close the two were.
He gave her his soft look, the one that said that he loved her and didn’t know how to tell her just how much.
